


Content Advisory

by seperis



Series: On Love and Lust at Mutant High [9]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-24
Updated: 2001-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seperis/pseuds/seperis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>St. John asks Rogue for a favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Content Advisory

**Author's Note:**

> The original concept is from someone on WR commenting that the original script had Logan constantly sketching a woman's face--Cordelia, was it you? Secondary idea came during Terri's spectacular 18 series, which if you aren't reading, you should be. Thanks to both of you. I'm now intermediary level prop stealer.

So he'd thought about it too much, an offhand observation in the shower that grew steadily more attractive. Sure. Fine. He was getting a little obsessed. He admitted this--he was even comfortable with it. Confirmation of true obsession came, however, when he ambushed Rogue outside and sat down to watch her sketch.

Vaguely, he could see the beginnings of another barbed-wire fence (chain-link? not quite sure), and a collection of smaller images, as detailed as a plain pencil could get on the lined paper of a spiral notebook, images that she couldn't possibly have ever seen in real life--certainly not the Nazi guard holding a rifle with a butt soaked in what he thought could be blood and perhaps even less savory matter. Her head came up almost as soon as he sat on the blanket beside her and she levered herself up off her stomach and onto her side to give him a curious look.

"Problem?"

Wolverine--Logan--had been home two days. He couldn't say there wasn't any noticeable change in her behavior--at least, to him, anyway. Probably Bobby too, since he knew things like how she walked when she was happy and when that little vertical crease between her eyebrows meant she was angry and when it meant she was thinking. Hell, he could tell by her eyeshadow color what mood she was in, and frankly, St. John found Bobby's observational skills in this instance just a little creepy.

But change--yes, there was, just a little.

She was more likely to smile and she didn't avoid the teachers as much as she had, and she definitely was keeping up the wardrobe change and he took a moment to enjoy the sight of long legs encased in black hose and the black skirt. Loose dark green shirt mostly buttoned, giving a hint of cleavage he had no issues at all taking a peek at, and a scarf casually tied around her throat. The long hair, however, was the same, white streak pulled back behind her ear, and she cocked her head a little, grinning at where his gaze lingered.

That really was _*alot*_ of skin on her chest. And a very pretty color too. Like high-quality cream or something.

"Cut it out, sugar. You've seen my breasts before. What do I owe the pleasure, or do ya just wanna cop a quick look to see if I'm wearing a bra today or not?"

"You can be a real bitch, Rogue." He stretched out beside her, propping his head on his elbow. "How you doin'?"

She shrugged, absently dropping her pencil back on the spiral.

"Good."

"You haven't been to your room in two nights."

An eyebrow rose and she laughed then, shaking her head a little.

"Yeah. Anyone else notice?"

"Just Bobby. And lucky me, who got the commentary on the subject. An exhaustive commentary."

"Poor baby," she crooned and reached out with a gloved hand to pat his shoulder. "Don't worry 'bout it none, sugar. He's just feeling the effects of infatuation. He'll get over it. And as for me not bein' there--get your head outta the gutter. Logan just got odd about my nightmares and really hates how my room smells--all the candles and crap. So I've been sleepin' in there. And only sleepin'." The little moue of disappointment was contradicted by the sparkle in her eyes.

"Six months ain't gettin' over it, Roguey-babe." He filed away the information on Logan's interest in Rogue's nightmares for the moment.

She shook her head, lowering it on her outstretched arm.

"Maybe if you'd tell him that this little business between the two of you ain't in the fun and games between buddies category, he might reconsider."

Ooh, yeah, sure, you betcha. Bobby was suddenly going to throw himself prostrate at his, St. John's, feet, if St. John told him that he really didn't have much interest in anyone else these days--random acts of lust notwithstanding. Random acts of liquor games notwithstanding. He sighed, shaking his head and Rogue muttered something uncomplimentary about men before finally reaching out and into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He cupped a hand over it, lighting it quickly and she smiled her thanks and took a long drag.

"So," she said finally, watching the smoke curl above her head. "Whatcha need?"

"Two things--one, how much does Logan know about--the incident with Remy?"

Whoa. She sat straight up, eyes wide, every effort at casualness completely gone, her body tensed like a spring. He had to crane his neck to look at her.

"Nothin'. And we're gonna keep it that way, Johnny, or I'll use you as target practice when classes start."

"Why?"

She chewed on her lips--nice color lipstick, he thought, the same red she'd used during the drinking game. Very nice. Probably same brand too--Rogue wasn't one to miss the practical uses of something like that. He pulled out a cigarette himself, lighting it while she stared down at her feet briefly, then relaxed slowly back down.

"He wouldn't take it well."

"You think?" he snorted and Rogue glared, taking another pull on her cigarette before rolling on her back to stare up at the tree above them. Lips set, her free hand clenched--Rogue's stubborn look. "Rogue, he's gonna find out."

"From who? Prof wasn't here and he respects my privacy. The kids are scared to death of him and I just don't see Scooter and Jeanie too willing to tell him anything. And Remy'll keep his mouth shut just on the survival principle." She blew out an angry breath. "Sugar, he don't know and we're gonna keep it that way. You and Bobby sure as hell better keep your mouth shut. And Kitty and Jubes aren't even here yet, and they know my feelings on the subject. No worries."

"And you're not answering the question. Why? Rogue--"

"Look." She stopped, frowning, starting again; obviously, she'd been working over this problem for awhile and come to some sort of reasonable conclusion. Reasonable to her, anyway. "It's not that--look, it wouldn't be good. You saw the isolation chamber--Johnny, that was just a little of him out. He doesn't take that sort of thing well at all. If--if it'd happened even a month sooner to me--" she stopped, taking a little breath that made him shiver. "If he finds out, Remy would be in physical danger, do you understand that? Actual, physical danger, like possibly death. Remy's good, don't get me wrong--but Logan's been up against better and meaner people with a hell of a lot fewer scruples. And--" she stopped, taking another breath, bringing herself under strict control. "He wouldn't _*think*_ first--he'd react. If I got him somewhere else, somewhere not here, and told him, he'd have plenty of time to cool down. Be pissed as hell, but he'd have time to cool down. I'm not puttin' Logan in the position of knowin' what happened and then try to make him see reason when Remy and Scooter and Jeanie are only a few feet away and just too damn available. That'd be just--" she shook her head. "He's Logan, and I'm not doin' that to him."

St. John hadn't thought of that. Absently, he blew out the smoke and stared down at Rogue's fingers--she wore gloves constantly now, and not just for protection--to hide the bandages. The broken fingers on her right hand had healed pretty quickly, but the damage was still visible enough to bring notice.

"You really think he'd--"

"I don't know for sure. And I'm not about to risk Logan and his place here just to find out."

"He can protect you."

"I can protect myself, Johnny."

With a sigh, he gave up the argument, pulling her spiral closer. Seeing his attention, Rogue was leaning forward, and he felt her watch him study the pages of sketches.

"Okay, second thing--I need a favor."

"Name it." A smile. "I owe you for that little whiskey trick. You and Bobby have a good time that night?"

He felt himself flush--he who had the fewest possible inhibitions about sex--and Rogue snickered.

"That good? Shit, Johnny, you gotta talk to him soon. Now whatcha need?"

Carefully, he rolled on his back and stared up at the leaves. In theory, this sounded like a great idea. Now, confronted with the reality, he just had to take a second and go in for the sheer surreally of asking Rogue for this. Though in a twisted way, it was logical, and really was the only way he could think of for this to work.

"I want you to draw Bobby for me."

A pause, and he glanced at her. To his surprise, an odd expression--half surprise, half pleasure--crossed her face.

"I can't draw, St. John." St. John glanced down at the sketches and Rogue flushed, absently flipping a page over and staring down at the grass. "I mean--that's not me. That's Logan. He can draw."

"You're kidding." She had to be. Magneto without underwear--bad enough--but Logan sitting behind an easel with a beret just did horrible things to his head and he choked back a shocked laugh. "Logan?"

"Yeah. When I--" she turned the pages rapidly, almost defensively, he thought. "This is just stress release--"

"So you can't do Bobby?"

She looked thoughtful then, and St. John held his breath.

"I--I could, I guess. I've never tried to draw something that wasn't already in my head, ya know? But I guess I could try. Whatdya have in mind?"

When he told her, Rogue burst into honest laughter, rolling on her back and then taking a deep drag of her cigarette, before blowing out and crushing it into the grass.

"Okay, I can try. After lunch--hey, Logan."

St. John literally jumped--how he did it, he didn't know, stretched out as he was, but he knew his entire body had left the blanket. At some point, he found himself up on both elbows, staring up into the very dark eyes of the man that he had no problem saying he was scared to death of--just like most of the population of the school. Logan had that effect on people--if St. John didn't know better, he'd really think Logan did it on purpose.

And this, he thought, was Logan in a good mood. He couldn't be sure, though.

"Marie." Laconic, and under St. John's fascinated gaze (once he got it torn from Logan), Marie stretched a little, raising herself on one elbow, a slow smile turning her mouth. A smile that, had it been given to him, Bobby or no Bobby, skin or no skin, would have resulted in Rogue being on her back and him finding out just how flexible those hose really were.

Whether Logan was equally impressed was debatable. He merely extended a hand and Rogue took it (left hand, St. John noticed), and let him pull her up.

"You ready?"

"Sure, sugar. Johnny baby, take my spiral back to my room, pretty please?" And that smile was turned on him and God, that was good, but she was an inch from Logan, who indeed still scared him, even if Logan was looking down on Rogue with what had to be amusement. So no jumping Rogue. And he wouldn't anyway. She was a friend--non-sexual friend. And thank God she didn't expect a response, because he really wasn't sure he could formulate a single word. "I'll see ya after lunch."

But God--

"Let's go." And maybe Logan wasn't so immune after all, he kept hold of her hand as Rogue picked up her shoes and put each little black boot on (with her left hand, couldn't be easy with her right still sore), turning easily and following Logan down the lawn. She was liquid to look at and St. John saw Logan turn abruptly, giving him a glance that brought his gaze straight back down to his shoes and kept there for awhile.

At least until he was sure he could move without advertising the very interesting condition that smile of Rogue's had left him in.

* * *

"Bobby--"

"No."

St. John sighed. Rogue sighed. Then they looked at each other ruefully.

"Bobby, come on." Rogue's voice was patient--even wheedling for her. "You shower naked, you go in the steamroom naked, I've been in your room while you were choosing what you were gonna wear and you've been, yes, naked. There is nothing either of us haven't seen in some way or another."

Bobby, clad only in his boxers, sat mulishly on his bed, looking not so much uncomfortable with the idea (in which case, St. John would have dropped it), but more worried. Probably about Rogue. After all, she'd had Remy, who they all knew was remarkably--well, there it was. And boys in the shower, yes, they did get in looks, and if they were anything like St. John, they had a little hierarchical list in their head. St. John, in fact, knew he rated near the middle ground--not bad--but didn't let it bother him. Bobby-boy, however, might have some issues, though really, he was in the top five, and St. John had seen just about every male at the school except Logan.

"Bobby, if it's the penis issue--"

"Rogue!"

She sighed. St. John sighed. Bobby was having that effect on them. Rogue, patiently (to St. John's surprise) tried again.

"Would you rather I did this naked too? Danger aside, would it make you more comfortable? St. John'll strip too, and I'll lock the door. We'll all be equals in nudity. That work?"

Now that was a pretty picture and St. John saw Bobby's eyes widen--and half of him hoped that Bobby would say yes. There were drawbacks to that, of course--but hell, getting to see Rogue would sure as hell be worth it, even if her eyebrows arched in amusement to see both boys at--well, at attention, so to speak. And there was definitely a wicked little smile on her mouth now. Rogue's issues about nudity came from the danger factor, not the modesty.

"Eh--" Come on, Bobby, say yes, so what if I'll have to look at you salivating over Rogue, I can salivate over her too and it'll all be good. "No. It's-it's okay." Shit. Maybe for the best. But shit.

Rogue tapped a finger impatiently on the sketch book.

"Look--nudity isn't the issue then. Gotta be the penis." Bobby choked. "No, I do not have one of my own and yes, I do have a certain natural curiosity about them. There are three men in my head who did have them, and trust me, there isn't much I _*don't*_ know about them, in any way, shape, or form. I am not gonna to compare you to other men mentally and laugh, because frankly, none of them men in my head exactly took measurements, you know? So strip down and get comfortable." Her eyes narrowed briefly. "Now."

She had that tone--and Bobby finally lost the boxers, stretching uncomfortably on the bed.

"St. John, get him into position or something--he looks like he might fall over if he breathes wrong."

St. John grinned and walked over, keeping firmly in mind the image he wanted. Bobby on his side, up on one arm, those long muscular legs slightly crossed, the other hand casually placed in front of his chest. Once reached, he found the pillows, carefully arranging them behind him and out of the picture, so to speak, and when Bobby finally relaxed against them--

\---oh God, perfect. So perfect. Greek statue indeed.

"You ready?" Rogue asked, breaking him out of his trance, and he quickly nodded, moving to sit beside her. Carefully, she pulled out the graphite pencils he'd bought and opened the sketch-pad, licking her lips absently as a distant expression crossed her face. Then the pencil went down and she began to draw.

He wondered, as he watched, if she was thinking of Logan doing a sketch like that of her. She bit her lip, a slight flush coloring her face, and he had to admit, that yes, it had probably occurred to her before and was occurring to her now.

He hoped he'd get to see it. His fantasy life could always use some extra fodder.


End file.
